


Only One Duty

by rubychan05



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, F/M, M/M, Political Alliances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubychan05/pseuds/rubychan05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s standing at the altar, Princess Mary’s hand in his, and all he can think about is how wonderful Sherlock looks in ceremonial robes.</p><p>Not good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only One Duty

There’s a brief moment when their eyes meet and John knows that he’s lost.

He’s standing at the altar, Princess Mary’s hand in his, and all he can think about is how wonderful Sherlock looks in ceremonial robes.

Not good.

This marriage will cement the alliance between the Watson and Morstan royal families, put an end to centuries of civil war and unrest. It will stop the pointless bloodshed that’s been destroying their country from the inside out and ensure a peaceful future for generations to come. It absolutely, positively, must go ahead.

And yet he can’t stop his hand from trembling as he lifts the golden goblet to his lips. Can’t hide the nervous fidgeting, the sudden rush of heat in his cheeks as he realises that Sherlock is still watching him.

It’s not like he strung the man along, after all. Sherlock knew right from the start that John was promised to the Morstan princess. John wasn’t even the one who’d made the first move – it had all been Sherlock. The first time they kissed, the first time they held hands…even the first time they made love was instigated by his servant.

John remembers finding Sherlock in the underground slave market, tied to a post and covered in whip marks. The trader had just laughed at John’s anger, not recognising him. This one was unruly, you see. Had to be disciplined, you see. No telling what he’d do if left to his own devices. He needed special…treatment.

John had backhanded the man before he even realised what he was doing, throwing back his hood before the trader could stab him for his insolence. In the chaos that followed, he’d freed Sherlock’s hands and asked him if he was ok, feeling him for signs of internal injury and smiling when he found none.

Sherlock hadn’t replied. At first John had assumed it was because the slave was too afraid to speak, but then the other man had just rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, smirking as John recoiled in horror.

His tongue had been cut out, no doubt as punishment for speaking his mind when it wasn’t wanted.

Since then, Sherlock had lived in John’s quarters as a personal servant, attending to his needs and wishes. Or, at least, pretending that he was. It had quickly become apparent that Sherlock was bone idle unless the task was something he himself was interested in, but John hadn’t really minded. There was just something…vibrant…about Sherlock, something invigorating and new. Though mute, he made enough noise that John found himself wondering how he’d lived in silence all these years. Though a servant, he treated John like an inferior when he could get away with it and at other times an equal at best.

Sherlock had been everything John hadn’t realised he was missing, and it had seemed only natural to kiss him back when Sherlock’s lips first crushed his.

He’d been happy.

And now…now he was standing in a crowded cathedral, chanting Latin verses that held no meaning any more, holding the hand of a woman he didn’t love. The crown sat heavy on his head, threatening to fall off if he didn’t stand perfectly upright, and John felt like he was slowly being suffocated.

“Sire? Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The cleric prompts.

John tears his eyes away from Sherlock’s, staring determinedly into Mary’s as he performs his duty.

“I do.”

When he looks back, Sherlock’s gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Albert Camus: 'I know of only one duty, and that is to love.'
> 
> Find me on Tumblr under [rubychan05](http://rubychan05.tumblr.com/).


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